A Love That Will Never Grow Old
by saraapandaa
Summary: A sequential collection of Newtmas fluff, because there simply isn't enough. New York themed AU. Rated M for later chapters.
1. Prologue

**_A/N: Before I forget; _**

**_Disclaimer: TMR and all of it's characters and slang terms belong to the magnificent James Dashner. _**

**_ I would like to start off by saying, if you were able to disregard that awful excuse of a summary, you're the real MVP. I think it's safe to say that I'm better at writing stories than over views, so, never fear. Hopefully, the story well exceeds the limited synopsis._**

**_This particular account of our ever so lovely gladers, Newt and Thomas, is, basically, just an over dramatized series of fluffy outtakes based around the every day lives of the Maze's favorite shucks. _**

**_Another thing- I will most likely get carried away, and end up making this into a monstrosity of a seemingly plot-less scenario._**

**_THIS IS NOT A ONE SHOT. _**

**_And, yes. The title of this story was so elegantly replicated from the title of "A Love That Will Never Grow Old" by Emmylou Harris, written and produced for the major motion picture "Broke Back Mountain"._**

**_**_With that being said, please, enjoy this work in progress._**_**

****PROLOGUE****

"Newt, you know I won't be able to stop you once you've begun."

Thomas' tone was playful, but Newt knew that there was more than enough truth in his words.

"That's what I was hoping for, Greenie."

Thomas cringed at the nickname that he should have outgrown long ago, shoving against his boyfriend's slender frame.

This only caused Newt to chuckle more than he had been previously, dipping his head low, making a move to capture the lips that belonged to the frustrated boy beneath him with his own. Thomas groaned, rolling his head to the side at the last minute, a cheeky grin making its way onto his tanned face.

Thomas squeezed his eyes shut and crinkled his nose as Newt's firm lips landed on his ear, resulting in him shouting at the blonde through his laughter to 'get the shuck off of him'.

Newt let his head drop into the crook of Thomas' flushed neck, burying his nose into the protruding collarbone before him. He smiled against the former runner's warm skin, breathing in the smell of grass and sweat; of nighttime; Of_ Thomas_.

Newt closed his eyes and kissed one of the numerous moles that littered the boy's body, resting his head against the place on his chest where he could feel the constant _thump_ of his heart.

"You're such a girl sometimes."

Newt snorted against the soft cotton of the t-shirt Thomas had thrown on that morning, mumbling his reply into the worn fabric.

"I'd like to hear you say that around Brenda or Teresa."

Newt felt the rumble of laughter make its way out of his partner and he let out a sigh as he remembered that Brenda and Teresa were going to be making an appearance at his and Thomas' new place.

"Now that you've gone and ruined the moment, _as always_, get up. Go- I don't know- brush your hair for once. _Put on a shirt, for Christ's sake. It's not like it isn't hard enough to keep your desperate suitors at bay, much less when you waltz around like a breathing Calvin Klein ad. _

"_Me_ ruin the moment? You were the one that called me a girl!" Newt lifted his head up, letting his chin rest on Thomas' chest, his nose touching Thomas' own chin. "Besides, I like having suitors. There's nothing more rewarding than seeing you twiddle your thumbs in jealousy. I _love_ it."

Thomas scoffed and pressed his hands against Newt's shoulders, pushing against them until he was no longer beneath the smirking bastard. He rolled his eyes and stalked into the kitchen, rambling on about something that had to do with the audacity Newt possessed.

Newt shook his head in amusement, rolling off of the couch. He stood up, stretching, relishing in the sound of his cracking muscles as he extended his arms above his head, grunting in ecstasy the whole way through.

"Bloody hell," he muttered, twisting his torso so that a loud _pop_ could be emitted from somewhere within his back.

"How 'bout you put a kick in your step, Newt? Teresa and Brenda are likely to be here within the next fifteen minutes, and you have yet to make it out of the living room!"

"Aw, bug off, Tommy. I'm on my way."

Newt ran his hand through his ruffled hair, lightly scraping his nails across his scalp here and there, as he padded across the open flat.

_There. Hair: brushed. _

Serving as the master bedroom, and currently Newt's destination, was a section in the back of their large space that was divided into one of the corners by two outward walls.

As Newt stepped into the doorway, the floor changed from hard linoleum to fuzzy carpet. He let out a breath of contentment as his all-too cold feet sunk into the thick fur, dragging them through it for the rest of his trek.

He grabbed the small brass knobs attached to the matching wooden doors of his closet, swinging them open wider than necessary. His dark eyes raked the various shades and sizes of the altered pieces of fabric that were all perfectly aligned and hanging from black, plastic hangers in front of him.

Thomas' lengthy arms roped around Newt's lower abdomen from behind, sending a shiver up Newt's spine as Thomas' burning skin made contact with his naturally chilled outer layer.

Newt craned his head to the side as Thomas placed his jutted chin into the hollow between Newt's neck and shoulder, allowing him more room to adjust.

Thomas placed the tiniest of kisses along Newt's jawline, trailing back to the top of his spine, and across his shoulder blade.

He nestled into the hollow once again, closing his eyes, letting the air rush out of his nose, raising chill bumps where ever it landed on Newt's flesh.

"I thought you didn't like me not wearing a shirt?"

Newt had a small smile on his face, his eyelashes brushing his cheeks as he looked down to where Thomas' arms were still tightly encasing his waist.

"Are you saying you don't like my hypocrisy?"

"No, no, _of course not_," Newt dragged out. "I would_ never._"

Newt felt Thomas bring his head upwards, lowly muttering 'good' in his ear before leaving a sloppy kiss on the side of his face.

He retrieved his arms from their newly accommodated place of refuge, pushing past Newt into the Brit's roomy closet.

"I think white fits you best," Thomas stated, crossing his arms in contemplation. "But, black _also_ treats you well. As do all of the other colors in this spectrum and the next- why am I even having this discussion? _Just pick one!_" Thomas let his arms fall beside him as a show of impatience with the fact that his partner could make nearly anything look as if it were created for him, but gave him such a hard time when he was trying to get Newt to actually wear something.

"You pick."

This was all Newt would say as he watched Thomas with enthusiasm, taking note of all the things he did whilst his tolerance was growing thinner.

"Here," he huffed, thrusting a crisp, grey and black long-sleeved flannel in Newt's direction.

Newt chuckled as he slid into the shirt, grabbing the edges that were meant to be joined together by buttons, shaking them out a few times, so the garment could settle around him more comfortably.

"Are you going to button that up?"

Newt looked down at his upper body, then back up at Thomas.

"No..?"

"Then why didn't you put a shirt on underneath it?"

Newt once again glanced himself over, returning his innocent gaze to Thomas' steely one.

"Um, because you didn't hand me one?"

Thomas shook his head in bewilderment, never breaking eye contact with the mischievous young man that he called his.

Newt raised his eyebrows, upturning one side of his lips in a mouth-watering flash of teeth, tilting his head, as if saying, '_you know you want me to wear it like this'._

Thomas brought his hands up beside his shoulders, pulling his elbows in, in an act of surrendering.

"Fine. _Fine._ Why do I even bother?"

He turned around and jetted out of the room, probably off to the kitchen to open something that he and his house guests could drink on while they were present.

"_Brush your hair!_"


	2. Chapter 1

_**A/N: **_Disclaimer: TMR and all of it's characters and slang terms belong to the magnificent James Dashner._****_

_****_*THE PROLOGUE HAS BEEN UPDATED SEVERAL TIMES WITHIN THE LAST TWENTY-FOUR HOURS. IF YOU HAVE NOT ALREADY, UPDATE IT.*_****_

_**To everyone who read the prologue, some of you placing this story under your favorites and/ or follows list, feel free to leave a review or shoot me a PM with any advice or observations, or to simply let me know how your experience with the story so far has been.**_

_**As promised to the lovely Xx The Genius Xx who left a heartwarming review, I got to work on this next chapter as quickly as possible. I hope it satisfies your expectations. **_

_**Also, thank you times infinity to bluefray18 for being the first to review, leaving a simple and sweet comment. I hope you got my message! Enjoy. **_

**CHAPTER X 1**

Newt was just finishing up brushing his teeth in the bathroom that was built into his and Thomas' bedroom when he heard a string of profanity filter into the airy complex, as Brenda most likely tripped into the boys' unaccustomed home.

"Which one of you slintheads made the jacked decision to take your shoes off _right in front of the door_?!" She yells, her voice resonating throughout the flat.

"That would be your dearest Newtie, over there."

Newt tries to conjure his most menacing glare and direct it at Thomas for ratting him out as he debates whether or not he should enter the main room. His efforts are cut short as he flails his arms around in a hopeless manner, trying to shield himself from the oncoming flurry of long hair and extremely tanned skin that launches itself at him with astounding agility.

"Jackass." Brenda mutters into his chest, as her petite figure manages to engulf the taller boy's stature, her toned arms squeezing Newt's torso with an extreme amount of force. "I just knew you and Thomas were going to get wrapped up in the beauty of California all over again, and leave me stranded here with Teresa for the rest of my pitiful life."

Brenda continues her pouting as Newt rubs circle across her back with one hand, his other one currently trapped under the wholesome 110 pounds of what he believed to be purely taut muscle. "Brenda, I already told you that we were just taking an extra few days to revisit the places that meant the most to us in the short year that we stayed there." Newt's words are reassuring, and he feels Brenda relax beneath him, quickly untangling herself from him.

"Don't fucking leave your shoes in the doorway, you British prick. And, where's your shirt?"

Thomas sets the bottle down as his eyes lock onto Newt's. "Yeah, Newt, where's your shirt?"

Newt sheepishly shrugs his shoulders and gives the blunt girl an apologetic grin for leaving his boots in the doorway as she shuffles to the kitchen and immediately starts rummaging through the cabinets, predictably looking for something to eat. Thomas is still filling tall, crystal flutes with a bright, fizzing liquid as Newt approaches the bar separating the kitchen from the rest of the apartment, save for an opening between it and the adjacent wall, for people to go to and fro.

Newt must not have been containing his perplexity with the sparkling beverage very well, because Thomas soon parted his lips to say, "It's sparkling white wine, Newt." His eyes never left the task at hand, but he could just imagine Newt's brows furrowed, his teeth worrying his bottom lip in curiosity.

Brenda scoffs from inside the refrigerator, practically on her hands and knees on the massive second shelf, while rearranging jars of mayonnaise and pickles, shoving cartons of yogurt and half gallons of milk back and forth across its chilled surfaces.

"Thomas, don't you dare try to offer me any of that. I want a fucking beer- _where the hell are they?_"

"Bottom right drawer," Thomas mutely provides, listening to the high pitched whine of plastic against plastic as Brenda slides the small box open, followed soon after by the swishing of plastic sacks filled with a variety of different vegetables and miscellaneous other things.

"-_underneath the bags._"

There's a pause before the rustling can be heard again- slower, more careful this time- as Brenda lifts the tomatoes and onions to reveal a cardboard pack, containing six perspiring green bottles labeled _Heineken_.

"Dammit, Thomas, I love, love,_ love_ you." She coos out, clambering backwards out of the giant cooler to chase after Thomas, pinching fingers outstretched as they try to claim the bickering boy's cheeks.

"Brenda, leave the poor stick alone."

The corkscrew Thomas had previously been holding banged to the floor, Thomas abandoning it to all but tackle Teresa as she barely stepped over the threshold, weighted down by overflowing Wal-Mart bags.

"Easy there, Tom, it's not like I had to struggle up four flights of rickety stairs, toting the bounty of housewarming tokens I plan to graciously bestow upon you; _alone." _Teresa finishes her sentence over Thomas' shoulder, a pointed look aimed at Brenda gracing her features.

"Babe, I had to make sure they were really here!" Brenda drawls out in a pout, holding the neck of her beer bottle in her right hand, twisting the cap off with her left. She rolls it around in her fingers as she lifts the bottle's small opening to her thin lips, sighing in appreciation when the crisp beverage hits her tongue.

"Ah," she says, before taking another swig. "Sweet alcoholic release." Her eyes are closed and there's a small grin at play on her face, showing just how content she really is.

"Save the dramatics, Brenda, and go get the rest of the bags." Teresa starts spilling out a number of different orders for everyone as she shoves past Thomas to fully make her way in the room, including where each thing she bought needs to be placed. "Hello, Newt- why are you half naked?"

Newt just tucks his lips underneath his teeth, showing a sarcastic closed-mouth smile, before saying, "You know, when you buy a housewarming gift, you're just supposed to buy it. That's it. You give it to the lucky new settlement owner, and you go about your merry way, satisfied with knowing that you helped out, at least a little." Thomas paces back into the kitchen after applauding Teresa with a pronounced "Thank you!" as Newt tries to give Teresa his knowledge. Throwing "he's right" in at the end, when Newt rotates in his stool at the bar to look at Teresa expectantly, waiting for her to acknowledge that she had heard anything he said.

"Well, Newt, I've decided that I'm going to help the two of you- and your lacking ability to make anything look even semi-stylish- and decorate your humble abode for you." Teresa's voice was barely audible, seeing as she had managed to find her way into the back of the house. "Think of it as an early Christmas present."

Newt swiveled his stool back around so that he was facing Thomas, who had been busying himself milling around in the pantry, occasionally pulling down a few boxes and little grinders that had different spices and seasonings.

"Teresa, its March." Thomas plainly shouts, his head turned towards the hallway.

Newt does his best to stifle a laugh as the banter passes between the two best friends. When he fails, he lets his feet inch towards the ground until they're both planted firmly on the cool faux wood. He makes his way into the kitchen, grazing over the different things Thomas had brought in from the cupboard. Some type of pasta and two jars of creamy sauce littered the marble counter top, one white with the occasional fleck of pepper, and one a color somewhere between orange and yellow.

"Cheesy Chicken Alfredo?" Newt asks Thomas, picking up the transparent bag holding the raw noodles that read _Penne_.

"Technically not Alfredo, but yes."

Brenda bustled back into the apartment, carrying approximately six bags, shouting at Teresa that "they lived in a condo, not a villa, for Christ's sake", kicking the door shut with the tip of her short boot. "And, Thomas," she said, tossing the bags over the back of the couch. "I don't want your cheesy ass noodles, I-".

Thomas silenced her by holding up a package of ground beef, letting it fall back on the counter by the pre-cut chicken breast tenderloins when she raised both of her thumbs in the air.

Newt retrieved the fairly large bottle of _Canola _cooking oil from above the stove, pouring it into the slightly bubbling water in a slow, circular motion. He added in a few shakes of salt for good measure, stirring it all in to make sure the noodles wouldn't stick to the bottom of the metal pot, but, also because they needed a good flavor.

"Home sweet home." Newt muttered smiling, leaning in to give Thomas a soft kiss on the cheek. Thomas just rolled his eyes and continued to set frozen slices of garlic bread down on the greased pan in front of him, while Newt peeled back a strip of the hard plastic of the pasta bag. He let the noodles spill into the pot, careful not to let any of the sizzling water splash up and hit either of the boys, who were currently laughing to themselves as Brenda accused Teresa of mistaking Thomas and Newt for drag queens, instead of two regular gay people.

"Home sweet home." Thomas repeated.

_**A/N: I'll be trying to update every chance I can get, but I'm not promising that every chapter can come out as quickly as this second one has. But, never fear, I don't see myself abandoning these boys any time soon. Reviews and PMs are never out of the question.**_

_**On another note, I'm trying to get all updating and revising done beforehand, but I cannot assure you that this chapter won't go through any editing after being published. I apologize in advance. This story is not being beta-d. xx**_


	3. Chapter 2

**_A/N: _****_Disclaimer: TMR and all of it's characters and slang terms belong to the magnificent James Dashner._**

_**I want to start this author's note off by saying, I am truly and deeply sorry that this was so long awaited. I got so caught up in the Christmas spirit that I forgot I had already pledged my undying loyalty to all of you.**_

_**I hope this chapter makes up for lost time. It briefly gets a smidge over T+ in here. Alas, virgin eyes, beware. **_

_**Enjoy!**_

**CHAPTER X 2**

Newt was draining the noodles over the kitchen sink as Thomas finished frying the last bits of chicken.

"Where did Teresa and Brenda say they were going, again?" Newt smirked to himself as he asked Thomas the question he had already asked several times, dumping the slimy noodles back into the large metallic pot sitting on a small rectangular potholder on the island.

"Newt, for the last time, they're just making a run to _Pier 1 _to see if they can find some 'complimentary throw cushions'. Do you ever liste-". Thomas was silenced when Newt grabbed both sides of his face, tilting his head upwards until their mouths met in a forceful kiss. Thomas went limp beneath him, Newt jutting his arm forward to catch Thomas' elbow before his entire forearm landed in the bubbling grease that remained in the skillet still above the scorching burner of the stove.

"Yes, darling, I listen to you." Newt let one of his palms linger on Thomas cheek, cupping his jaw and giving him another sweet peck before turning the knob on the stove backwards. "Like, when you said the cheese sauce has to go in_ after_ the Alfredo, because it's much stronger, and the Alfredo would be totally pointless if there was too much cheese."

Newt carefully loosened the thin bronze lid from the container that was filled with the creamy white paste. He slowly made circles over the pot, letting the sauce drizzle down across the noodles, making sure to thoroughly coat as much as he could. When it seemed like the jar would put forth no more, Newt traced his finger around the rim, satisfied when more of the thick liquid drizzled out.

When he was done, he brought the coated digit to his lips, sucking it in and depositing it near the back of his throat, his tongue lashing out to capture any possible flavoring left. He released his finger with a loud _pop_, locking his eyes onto Thomas'.

Thomas shuffled forward, letting his hands fold over Newt's, which were already placed around the bulky edges of the second jar. "Let me help." Thomas demanded. Never breaking eye contact, Thomas twisted around Newt's hands until he heard the breaking of the seal that served to keep air out and assure its consumers that it had never been opened.

Newt's lips parted slightly, his minty, cheddar infused breath lashing out at Thomas' cheeks. The lid clattered to the ground, startling Newt. His hand slipped and the jar tumbled over, some of its orange contents splashing out and landing on his exposed abdomen.

Before he could react, Thomas stilled him by falling to his knees and grabbing his thighs. His tongue darted out, wetting his lips. The sight of Thomas kneeling in front of him made Newt's entire throat contract against itself, his mouth suddenly painfully dry.

Thomas craned his head towards Newt's face, looking on with innocence. He leaned forward and placed a kiss near Newt's navel, lapping up the cheesy mess that had previously resided there. Thomas smacked his lips as his eyes raked back down the length of Newt's body. "We need to get this cleaned up before Brenda and Teresa get back." Thomas rasped out, licking through another layer of cheese on Newt's stomach.

Newt groaned and clenched his fist around the edge of the island.

"I told you to put a shirt on," Thomas chided between his wet kisses against Newt's flushed skin. He slid his hands up Newt's legs, resting them on the boy's hips. Thomas' grip tightened as he used Newt's frame as leverage to drag himself up from his knees. Still slightly crouched, he leaned forward and flicked his tongue across Newt's nipple.

He looked up at Newt through his lashes, his blood instantly rushing to his groin at the image.

Newt's head had dropped backwards, resting against the back of his neck, and his Adam's apple bobbed while he rapidly tried to alleviate some of the scratching rawness that had taken over his throat. His eyebrows were scrunched together and his eyes were lightly squeezed shut, his eyelids fluttering as, Thomas imagined, his eyes rolled back. His mouth was open and his breath was coming out in short pants, sometimes accompanied by a low mumble of Thomas' name. His knuckles had gone completely white, struggling to keep their dangerously tight hold on the bar, it being the only thing besides Thomas keeping him upright. His other hand was digging its bitten nails into the cloth protecting Thomas' shoulder from Newt's act of attempting to maintain control.

"God damn," Thomas growled, dropping his forehead into the defined crease between Newt's pectorals. Thomas was suddenly hyper-aware of his growing erection, pressing urgently against the stretched fabric in the center of his flight pants. His moist breath against Newt's sweat-slick skin was doing nothing to quell the older boy's vocal affection, which was doing nothing to decrease the younger boy's excruciatingly hard member.

"Newt," Thomas moaned out, hoping his partner would sense the desperation in his voice.

"Mm."

"Newt," Thomas tried again, more forcefully.

Thomas felt Newt's torso swell under him as the taller boy breathed a long sigh.

"We have to stop," Thomas continued. "The girls will be back soon, and if you keep making those noises that you're making, I'd have you busy all night."

Newt's nostrils flared as he used every remaining ounce of will power in his body to extinguish the guttural cry trying to escape his throat at the idea of Thomas falling apart above him for hours upon hours.

"You're not bloody helping, Tommy." Newt hissed. This sent Thomas over the edge, loving every single thing about being able to push Newt's nerves to the limits in the ways that only he could do.

Thomas wrapped one of his arms under Newt's armpits, the other beneath his butt, scooping him up to deposit him on the counter opposite of the island. Newt grunted when his back hit the low cabinet behind him, lurching forward at Thomas in an open mouthed kiss. Thomas put his hands back to work, massaging the knotted muscles in his boyfriend's shoulders, swallowing the disheveled boy's groans of approval as he released his tension into Thomas' touch.

'I fucking love the way you melt, just for me." Thomas rumbled along Newt's jawline in appraisal, grinding against the counter.

Newt whined into Thomas' ear, causing the previously dominant boy to shiver. Thomas bit down on Newt's neck, his shouts muffled as he buried his face in Thomas' thick brown waves.

"Tommy," Newt mewled, gulping. "Your hand."

Thomas shifted his gaze to where his hand was clawing its way down Newt's figure, getting extremely close to the flustered boy's own tense length. He let his eyes roam back up until they met the pulsing brown orbs that belonged to the only person in the world that he had ever loved.

Thomas took in the pale mess before him, his chest tightening when he made his way back to Newt's face. He was surveying Thomas impatiently, waiting for him to make the next move.

Thomas ran his hand through Newt's tousled blonde locks, resting it on the back of his head. He brought Newt's head forward and watched as his eyes closed, his lips twitching in anticipation. Thomas smiled as he closed the distance between them with a passionate kiss that left Newt's partially open mouth numb when Thomas pulled away.

Thomas stared directly into Newt's eyes as he observed Newt tugging on his lower lip with his teeth.

"God, you're beautiful." Thomas whispered, creating a blush throughout Newt's cheekbones as Thomas littered them with kisses.

"Shut up, Thomas.." Newt muttered. He hated when Thomas went all hopeless on him. Yes, Thomas was the one who could bend Newt to his every want and need when the time came, but Newt was normally the one who made Thomas squirm away from his romantic speeches and tender gestures. Thomas usually chose to act out in the bedroom, only occasionally initiating sweet displays elsewhere. PDA was Newt's specialty.

Newt would do anything Thomas asked, but he loved the fact that he was typically the one calling the shots. Thomas just couldn't resist Newt's wide eyes, or his adorable crow's feet that appeared when he laughed. He could get Tommy to do just about anything, as well as he could get himself out of the things he didn't particularly take to.

Thomas was a lost cause when it came to Newt, and they both knew it.

Thomas leaned back and grabbed Newt's chin between his thumb and index finger, turning Newt's head until they were facing each other again. "You are." Thomas enthused.

"Okay, Tommy, I am," Newt surrendered, embarrassed. He swiftly averted his gaze from Thomas' adoring eyes, pouting. He searched the kitchen for anything that would hold his attention long enough for Thomas to get off his soap box.

Thomas folded into Newt's figure, breathing in his scent; _their scent. _He kissed the hollow in Newt's neck and the raised muscle on the side of his throat. "I love you," he murmured.

Newt inhaled contentedly, lightly drawing patterns on the back of Thomas' plain white tee with the tips of his fingers. "I love you, too." He said, placing a kiss on the top of his head. "So, so, so much."

Thomas pulled his head off of Newt's chest and let Newt kiss him, holding onto it for what felt like forever. They only separated when they heard Brenda mutter from the doorway "you make me sick", Teresa watching them over her shoulder with a drunken appreciation. Brenda made mock gagging sounds, earning a shove from Teresa, who grumbled at her to 'have a heart'.

"Well," Newt started, hopping from the counter to pick up the disregarded jar from earlier and pour a little into the giant pot. He easily replaced the top and placed it back in the pantry, seeing as it was still nearly full. He swiped his finger along the surface of the island, collecting the left over evidence of the mess he and Thomas had made earlier. "Dinner's ready!"

He nonchalantly licked the cheese from his finger, winking at Thomas when he deemed it completely cleaned. Thomas whimpered and pinched the skin on the back of his hand, praying that it would keep his mind away from Newt's swollen tongue and slender fingers as Teresa and Brenda bustled into the steamy kitchen, bickering at one another about something that had happened while they were running errands.

Newt chuckled. It was going to be a long night.

**_A/N: From within the deepest pits of my heart and soul, I hope and pray that this chapter need not be edited. I have been pouring over this small document for the past two hours, changing and fixing things in different places each time. If you notice something, do be a doll and send me a PM. _**


	4. Chapter 3

_**A/N: **_**_Disclaimer: TMR and all of it's characters and slang terms belong to the magnificent James Dashner._**

_**Whoops. Looks like my annual winter hibernation lasted a bit longer than I had aimed for. That's my bad, I will admit. On the more specific side of excuses, I rolled onto my laptop in my sleep, and put a pretty little dent in the liquid display. This makes for an extremely difficult experience in itself, but, need I add on, I was away on a vacation of sorts, and I left my HDMI cable at my house. When you combine that series of unfortunate events and the reanimation of my school year, you get a majorly bummed out and unmotivated author.**_

_**I'll end this by expressing my gratitude for the absence of hate mail in my PMs. I can assure you, I deserve it. I should probably apologize for any painful grammatical wrong doing in advance. You've been warned.**_

_**Wait no longer, below lies your next chapter. I'll try not to let a hiatus that strenuous or horrific repeat itself. **_

_**Enjoy.**_

**CHAPTER X 3**

"Thomas your burgers are _soooooo_ good." Brenda said with a moan.

Newt stifled a laugh as Teresa curled her lip and muttered something about disgusting eating habits.

"Seriously, Tom," Teresa started. "You're such a good cook!" Brenda gave a grunt around the dripping patty she was practically inhaling, nodding slowly in agreement. Her eyes were closed and she was breathing in deeply through her nose, almost erotically.

"If Newt keeps beating around the bush, I'll marry you myself." She states, tossing her gaze to Newt, raising an eyebrow in challenge. Newt mutters that he'd like to see her try, leaning sideways until his mouth meets Thomas' temple in a sticky, open mouthed kiss. Thomas shoves against the grinning fool's shoulder until his weight shifts, and the chair lands back on four legs with a _thump_.

Thomas runs the back of his hand across the side of his face and shudders as he hurriedly seeks out his napkin. "You're a filthy, filthy animal, Newt," he says. "Leave your door open, Brenda."

"You couldn't sleep through one night without me." Newt pokes, reaching over Thomas' plate to grab a second slice of garlic bread. He piles a forkful of the Alfredo on its crisp edge before shoving nearly half of it into his mouth. "And, the girls are right. Job well done, my angel." He says, only partially audible through his full mouth. Brenda and Thomas groan at the chosen term of endearment while Teresa looks on in adoration.

"You're not actually into that bull shit, are you Teresa? Because, if you are, I think we should break things off right here and now, no questions asked. I mean, you'd have to beat me black and blue before you got me to throw up something from that stupid book of compliments Newt's managed to get by on."

"Go to hell." Teresa replied, throwing what was left of her garlic bread in Brenda's direction. The toasted item hit Brenda square in her eye, causing the yelling girl to topple over sideways out of her chair.

"That's my girl!" Thomas said, tapping fists with Teresa over the table. Not long after, a mixture of guilt and boredom passed over the girl's slightly freckled face. She huffed a sigh of displeasure and scooted her chair away from the table, making her way over to the still groaning, crumpled form of Brenda. Teresa rolled Brenda onto her back and straddled her waist, leaning down to get a closer look at the supposed damage she had inflicted upon her girlfriend.

Brenda pouted and said, "I _am_ gonna leave you one day," as Teresa prodded her upper eyelid, trying to find any crumbs that could have lodged themselves in Brenda's eye.

"I pray, for my sake, that you're telling the truth." Teresa mused, only half paying attention to the oversized child beneath her. Teresa released Brenda's eyelid and moved her hands down until they were holding both sides of the girl's tanned face. Teresa leaned down and pressed a blunt kiss to Brenda's frowning lips, then used Brenda's shoulders to push herself into a crouched position. When she was fully upright, she looked down and instructed Brenda to "stop crying and finish your dinner".

Brenda grumbled and made her way back to her seat, giving Thomas and Newt, who were both too occupied with their fits of laughter to notice, the finger. Teresa made her way around the table, gathering the now empty dishes into a stack, pausing only to roll her eyes when Brenda went out of her way to eat the last few bites of her sandwich in a manner that was the complete opposite of how she had been devouring it earlier that evening.

"Fine," Teresa said. "You can wash your own damn plate." Teresa stormed into the kitchen, leaving a string of swear words aimed at a suddenly normal-eating Brenda in her wake.

"You better go in there and handle that," Newt said smugly, "..before I do." He smirked as he swallowed down the last of his wine with a loud sigh. He smacked his lips, pulling a worn pocketbook from his pants. He scanned over a few pages and then said with mock revelation, "Here we are! Stupid bull shit to say to a fuming woman after acting like a baby."

"Oh, fuck off, Newt." Brenda all but growled, sending Newt into a schoolboy-like snicker. Thomas rolled his eyes and chided him on his immature behavior, telling him to go find something the four of them could watch. Preferably, something that they could watch without giving anyone further reason to tear at each other's throats.

"Yes, sir," Newt responded, still grinning in satisfaction due to Brenda's sour mood. He gave Thomas a swift peck on the top of his head, and then was on his way out of the dining room and into the living area. Thomas busied himself adjusting the lid that was crookedly lying over the top of the pot holding the left over pasta, which had been so gracefully placed by a half-committed Newt. "Well?" Thomas asked expectantly.

"What?"

Thomas looked over to find Brenda staring at him innocently, as if she didn't know what he was getting at. Thomas just jerked his head in the direction behind him, silently telling Brenda to get the hell in the kitchen before Teresa _actually_ got mad. "Okay, okay, on my way." She surrendered, sliding out of her chair to tread into the opposing room and drape an arm around Teresa's waist, pulling her closer until their hips bumped.

"Get away from me," was the last thing Thomas heard Teresa say after he had finished putting away what little food remained, abruptly exiting the kitchen to join Newt, all together avoiding Brenda's expression of desperation. 'You deserve it.' Thomas mouthed, raising his eyebrows. Brenda would have to deal with this one on her own.

Newt must have heard Thomas shuffle into the living room, because he said "I've decided on _Rent_," without ever turning around. Newt waited for the DVD player to turn on and recognize the disc that had been inserted, only standing up to grab the remote control when he was certain he wouldn't be forced to get up later on. Thomas listened to Newt's pant legs slide against one another as he left the room, and again as he returned, arms weighted down with two thick throw blankets and a pile of pillows.

Thomas was already claiming the sofa, so Newt threw the long body pillow and the shorter of the blankets over the back of the gigantic recliner that was gifted to them by their former bosses. Thomas raised his upper body so Newt could tuck the last of the pillows behind him, handing Thomas the cover to hold onto until Newt could get himself situated.

Newt crawled over Thomas' slanted figure, tucking himself in between the couch cushions and Thomas. When he found himself comfortably positioned, he reached around Thomas to grab the corner of the blanket, draping it over the both of them. Newt wrapped his arms around Thomas' waist beneath it, pulling the boy against him. He deposited his chin into the crook of Thomas' neck, absently rubbing his jaw along the hollowed space.

"Thomas, cover your ears." Newt said in a low voice, biting at the exposed lobe before Thomas could raise his hand to plug his ears with his fingers, swatting Newt's mouth away in the process. "We're starting without you!" Newt shouted. He got a simple 'yeah, yeah' in return from somewhere behind him, and continued muzzling the skin around Thomas' ear. He ran his nose along the curve, and breathed hot air into the center. Thomas squealed and cringed away from the persistent boy's lips, telling him to 'stop it, _stop_ _that_, Newt" whilst also trying to stay on the couch.

"You're gonna make me fall off!" Thomas chuckled, grabbing onto the fabric of Newt's pants for support. He smiled into Thomas' skin, reluctantly obliging to his wishes. Newt replaced his chin on Thomas' shoulder, waiting for the boy to get properly aligned again.

Thomas tossed around for a minute or two, fluffing the now ruffled pillows and plopping his head down in the middle when he was satisfied. He twisted his head, pleased when Newt dropped his own lower, to meet Thomas' already pursed lips in a slow kiss.

Thomas smiled against Newt's teeth, reveling in the childish way Newt treated him. Newt drew his head back, only to quickly lean forward again and plant short, noisy kisses against Thomas' tight lipped grin. Newt extended his path onto Thomas' chin and cheeks, leaving smooches on every part of Thomas' face that he could reach. When Thomas' smile finally stretched just above the tips of his teeth, Newt quickly slotted his mouth around Thomas' bottom lip.

Thomas closed his lips around Newt's, and let himself be thoroughly kissed, until Newt was the one smiling into Thomas' mouth. Thomas retrieved his grin when Newt started to chew along the bottom of it, letting his head roll back towards the front of his body.

Newt closed his eyes and laid his head down just behind Thomas', tilting it downwards so he could nestle back into Thomas' collar. Newt listened to the combined sound of their breathing; his through his mouth, Thomas' through his nose. He started to lazily drag his stubbed fingernails across Thomas' warm back, letting the boy's natural heat pass into the tips of his fingers.

"I thought you were starting without us?" Brenda questioned as she slid into the left side of the recliner.

Newt smiled against Thomas t-shirt, still drawing circles further and further down his torso. "Thomas _insisted_ that we wait. _Quite_ the gentleman, if you ask me." Thomas snorted, tangling his feet with Newt's, warming up as much of his partner's abnormally cold skin as he could. "You bet," Thomas encouraged. "What was taking so long, anyways?"

Thomas turned and looked at the two girls, taking in Brenda's complacent leer and Teresa's flushed skin and wrinkled clothes. "Never mind that," Teresa diverged. "What I'd like to know is why we always get stuck with the small cover."

"We're taller than you, we need a longer blanket." Newt provided, carelessly. "Also, if you hadn't been in there fooling around, maybe you could have picked one out for yourself."

"You being freakishly tall doesn't make us short, you asshole." Brenda complained, scooting over so Teresa could wriggle in beside her. "And, don't act like you two weren't in here laying on the foreplay, yourselves."

"Shut up, Brenda." Teresa demanded, leaning her head against Brenda's arm. She wanted this conversation to end before it could even start.

Thomas chuckled and burrowed back further into Newt, snatching the remote from his strong hands while he was still able to. "There's no way I'm letting you reign over the volume. The rest of us would all end up begging for subtitles." There was a chorus of 'true that' and 'I agree', prompting Newt's jaw to drop in false hurt. He scoffed and chose to let Thomas keep the remote, locking his hands around Thomas' muscled core, where his arms were still semi-tightly circling.

Thomas jammed his thumb down on the _play_ button, waiting until Newt propped himself up to be able to see the screen, to turn up the sound and set the controller on the floor.

"Oh, look, my favorite gay musical." Brenda noted as the opening scene filled the television.

"Brenda," Thomas sighed. "Shut up."

Newt and Teresa tittered as Brenda mischievously said 'no way', and began to belt the first lines of _Seasons of Love_. Thomas groaned and glared at Newt when he motivated her by saying, "You sound wonderful, Brenda." Newt grinned and ran his hands up and down the length of Thomas' torso beneath his shirt. "Come on, Tommy, it's her favorite gay musical."

Thomas didn't think his eyes were strong enough to roll anymore.

**_A/N: If you see any fatal flaws, don't be shy. Slide in my PMs quicker than a warm knife in a stick of butter. I did review this a number of times, but it's currently 2AM and I am bound to have lacked better judgement somewhere within this document. xx_**


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